


No Kiss Before You Go

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Microfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She loves magic, and she's <i>hot.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	No Kiss Before You Go

She loves magic, and she's _hot._

Those two things don't fit together in your brain. They're puzzle pieces that don't connect. It just doesn't happen in real life. She's hot - not just hot, but _hot_ \- and she's staring lovingly at a ridiculously large stone statue of a wizard with a beard and staff. You're drawn to this fantastic girl with eyes full of respect for a magician wearing a sculpted cloak of stars. Wizards don't even wear cloaks anymore; that's so seven sweeps ago. But, hey, it's not like YOU know anything about magic. Before you landed in the dream bubbles, and eventually into this hive you planned on claiming as your new castle, you might have had a magic-loving stage, but that was nothing. You don't know anything about magic.

She looks like she knows some things about magic. There's a book in her hand with bold white letters and a person wielding a wand, so it's obvious to you that she must be an apprentice of some sort. You're very smart, so this is a likely deduction. That book's probably a textbook passed down to her by a human witch. Humans have "parents" instead of lusus, don't they? (You mentally pat yourself on the back for being so informed about human culture.) Maybe her lusus "parent" gave it to her, and taught her. Maybe she knows how to use magic. You check to see if she has a wand tucked into her pockets, and then realize it looks very much like you are checking her out.

You look away with embarrassment even though she can't see you, hiding behind a corner and watching her admire this wizard statue. 

The girl raises a hand, and you go stiff - jeepers, she's seen you, she thinks you're a creep, she's going to kick you out of this hive and it is very apparent that this is her hive you broke into. Ok, well, you didn't really break into it, there was a door that was open. Not really a door, more like a window, but anyway, it was open, and you found yourself inside, shaking off the rainwater from your custom leather boots ordered from the best Beforan shoemaker and definitely not from your custom wizard cloak.

Her hand goes to the foot of the statue, and it looks like she pats it fondly, as if giving a handshake to an old friend. The breath in your swimmer's chest goes shallow at this gesture. Your yellow nails are digging in the wallpaper and you don't notice when flakes of rose-patterned patter drop to the floor around you.

It's a bit like when you crawl out of the water onto hard ground, fins spread like an umbrella on both sides of your neck. Dripping water onto the rocks underneath your weight, it's like when you look up at the cave you've come in to rest during a swim or a storm and see crystals on the ceiling. Clear, beautiful, fantastic, unexpected crystals hanging in groups above you, terrifying, gorgeous works of art.

Her hair is blonde and ends at her shoulders, and her hair isn't soft but stubborn. It strays into the air from her blue-clad shoulders and black skin. The ends of her hair rise like her fingers as she presses a kiss to the leg of the wizard statue.

You suddenly aren't leaning against a wall and are, instead, falling. There's a sound of glass cracking as you fall flat on your face. No wonder it was like you were seeing for the first time; her hair must have been so crystalline clear because you were actually wearing your glasses. You swear at the crooked frames and slap a hand over your mouth, because you _never_ swear. Someone laughs at you.

No, giggles. The girl who loves magic is LOOKING at you. LOOKING right at you, and her eyes are PINK. There's a harder, meaner laughter in your head, Meenah tipping back her head and laughing, "You still wear _glasses?"_ Something painful thuds in your chest, because her lips are black like a troll's, but from lipstick. Her eyes are the color of an empress and you feel so small and yet so _wonderful_ looking into them. Your throat closes up, but your eyes open up for a flood.

She stares at you for a second, excitement instead of surprise or disappointment flickering in her pink eyes. A sincere smile crosses her face, and she turns to call out to someone you can't see, "Calliope!"

From the hallway opposite you, a figure shuffles from the shadows. Horror hits you as you recognize someone green and skeletal with a bony face and swirly cheeks. The flood in your body recedes. You make a weird whining noise in the back of your mouth when the "Calliope," the he-who-must-not-be-named, says hello.

Your scar hurts. You grab your crushed glasses and bolt.


End file.
